The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 86) Quietly Sobs
“Thank you so much for everything.” Destry says to Marcus as she starts clearing the table. “I hate that I’ve involved you in this. You should be in the city relishing in all the wonderful things your fans are saying about your beautiful work.” She says without looking up. “I received five messages today from my assistant. The local papers and television stations have been running wild with your story and people are flocking to your exhibit.”
A large wide smile crosses over Destry’s face. She stops at the sink and looks out the window at the shadows that nighttime always brings about. Her dark hair has loosened from its clip allowing ringlets to curl at the nape of her neck. Some strands are wet from the humidity in the air and are clinging to her skin. Marcus gets up from the table and walks over to stand next to her.
“I’m not a socialite and I despise big crowds.” Marcus says bluntly, as he looks at Destry and leans close to her touching his arm to hers. “I’m perfectly content to be here, with you.” He says calmly as he looks at her.
Destry turns to look at Marcus and they both stand together smiling for several seconds. Slowly large teardrops form in Destry’s eyes and collect on her dark long lashes before trickling down her cheeks. Marcus lightly pulls her to him wrapping his arms around her as she quietly sobs.
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